


Mr. Brightside

by TheoMiller



Category: Fantastic Four (2015)
Genre: F/M, Jealousy, M/M, Mutually Unrequited, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Unrequited Love, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-09 22:46:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5558417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheoMiller/pseuds/TheoMiller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Truly, the greatest enemy is not Victor von Doom, nor Harvey Allen, nor even the government, but heteronormativity. </p><p>Or, the one where Reed and Sue get married because they love each other and basically no-one is happy about it, and everyone is bisexual except for Johnny, who is asexual and a precious child who must be protected from these toxic idiots.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A RANDOM STRANGER WHO IS NOT JO GAVE ME THIS PROMPT
> 
> "now consider the following prompt: suereed is canon. ben is still very much in love with reed. NO FIXING IT WITH THE OT3, THAT'S CHEATING. we work within the gross heteronormative parameters of hollywood society, which do not allow for the OT3. so there you go. the truly darkest timeline: reed marries sue and ben is still in love with reed."

"Do you—do you want to grab something to eat?"

"Huh?" Sue glances up.

Reed manages to smile, although he kind of feels like throwing up or running away. "I was going to get some stuff from the vending machine before I head back to my room, would you like to join me?"

"Oh," says Sue, and returns his smile with a soft, sweet one. "Yeah. Can you grab me an orange soda and some Ramen?" She reaches into her bag and holds out a $5 bill.

"I was thinking I could pay," he says.

She cocks her head, smiles even wider, and says, "Like a date?"

"Like a date," agrees Reed, with his heart hammering.

"All right," says Sue, tucking her money away. "I'd like that."

Reed's waiting on the microwave – which is old and has a low wattage and thus cooks incredibly slowly, and munching on Necco wafers while he decides on dinner of his own – when Ben comes in, looking decidedly pale and frowning.

"Oh, hey, Ben," says Reed.

Ben doesn't return his smile. "Reed."

"Do you want a Necco wafer?"

"Can you let me just—can I say something?"

Reed swallows and then nods. "Okay."

"I'm not good with words. And things between us have been complicated, and there've been mixed signals - mostly from me - about the time we spend together."

"Okay," says Reed. He knows he needs to tell Ben, at some point, that he doesn't mind, honestly, that Ben doesn't feel the same way about him, that he thinks he's got a chance with Sue anyway, so just give it some time, and he's going to get over Ben entirely and he can stop screwing up their friendship. He just doesn't want to do it right now, when he doesn't have his note cards. "Ben—" he says, willing to try and ad-lib it.

"Let me finish," says Ben. "It's—well, uh, I think maybe the best things aren't supposed to come easily. And I think you deserve more than vending machine food tonight. Let's go out."

Reed winces. This is his chance to try and be Ben's best friend without complicating things with his crush, and he's gonna have to turn down. "I wish I could," he says, earnestly. "But the timing is just bad, it's really bad, I'm—I'm actually about to go eat with Sue. As a date."

"Oh," says Ben. He looks disappointed.

"We'll get bro-time soon," says Reed, patting his friend on the shoulder, and the microwave goes off. "Well, I should get that, Sue apparently enjoys burning off all her tastebuds with half-boiling broth. You should see her with egg-drop soup."

Ben rubs a hand over his face. "Awesome, buddy. Congratulations on the date, I know you like her a lot."

"Yeah," says Reed. He really, really hopes that liking her a lot will grow into more, and he'll be able to feel the same way about Sue that he does about Ben.

"Don't keep her waiting," Ben says, with a little half-smile.

-

"Tux or suit?" Reed asks, holding up two different jackets.

Ben remembers their prom—Reed's tux, the wingtips collar, the crooked bowtie—and hates himself for how quickly he says, "Suit."

He wants something to keep for himself, out of all of this. One image that has nothing of Sue to it.

So Reed ends up getting a suit—English cut, matte black, white shirt, skinny dark red silk tie—and Ben gets a shirt the same red as the tie, and tries not to be too glad about that, that Sue won't match Reed, but Ben will. This, he knows, is getting out of hand.

Reed asks Ben's mother to sit with the family. Franklin Storm is officiating, as well as leading Sue down the aisle, so it'll just be Ben's mother and Reed's parents. _Like if it were them getting married_ , thinks Ben, and really, he's just destroying himself at this point.

The wedding approaches at break-neck speed. Ben deals with more pre-wedding jitters than he lets himself consider, because if he starts wondering why Reed's so anxious about marrying a woman he loves, he's going to lose his entire freaking mind.

It's not until the actual day of the ceremony that Ben starts to wonder if he's gonna be able to make it through this at all, sanity intact or no. Reed is jittery and knocks back his break-through anxiety medication, the stuff he used to take before final exams and public speaking.

Johnny comes by at one point, looking as stressed as Ben feels, muttering points of his speech under his breath and patting his pockets to make sure he has the ring, assaulting Ben to make sure he has the other ring. His shirt is a soft blue color that matches the little lily-like things in the flowers that are _literally everywhere_. Including pinned to Ben's lapel.

Franklin comes to hug Reed and wish him luck, and Ben's ma comes in with a sympathetic look for him and a kiss on the cheek for Reed, since his own parents seem both shocked that the wedding is happening and bored with being forced to attend.

Ben has to leave while Reed practices his vows, saying he's just going to make sure he's got everything in place, but what he actually ends up doing is hiding in the weird loft thing at the back of the church. He's not sure what it's for, churches are weird, but it's still and quiet and covered with dust instead of flowers.

Which is why he's scared damn near out of his skin when he sinks into a seat and catches sight of the other occupant in the loft.

"Jesus," says Ben.

Victor von Doom sits up, managing to look both annoyed and utterly bored. He casts a disparaging look over Ben. "Aren't you Jewish?" he drawls.

"Christians aren't supposed to be taking the dude's name in vain anyway," retorts Ben.

He gets a dismissive huff in response, and Victor cracks his neck. "Shouldn't you be off playing lucky charm to the groom?" He sneers the word _groom_ like it's personally offended him.

"Ghost of Christmas Future," mutters Ben. Then, "Reed's just practicing his vows for the thousandth time. Besides, I need to work on my speech."

"Do you know," says Victor, slowly, "what the original purpose of the best man was?"

Ben doesn't, actually. He doesn't tell Victor that, but it doesn't seem to matter.

"The best man was once the best swordsman the groom could afford to hire. When marriage became more widespread in the lower class, it became the nearest friend of the groom who was passable at the sword. As swords and economic marriages fell out of fashion, the role was taken up by merely the closest male compatriot of the groom – and then, because male egos are fragile, it became a whole parade of all the groom's friends. Which benefited the wedding industry, since it meant more suits and ties and shirts."

"Huh," Ben says.

"Do you know why the grooms needed swordsmen?"

"To coerce their brides?" guesses Ben, because he has a dim view of medieval Europe.

"Not quite," says Victor. His lips quirk in the parody of a smile. "Just as the groom usually had a mistress or two, the bride usually had some _affaire de cœur_ with a gentleman who lost the bidding on the dowry. Someone who might try to break up the wedding, whether by stealing the bride or killing the groom or both."

Ben turns this over in his mind. "Should I be worried about you coming down the aisle with a sword?" he asks, finally.

"No," Victor says. Then, probably because Ben doesn't even sort of believe him and isn't trying to hide it, he adds, "I don't waste time on people who've made it quite clear that they are uninterested in being stolen away."

"If it's all the same to you, I'm gonna keep an eye on you anyways."

Victor laughs, a quiet little sound. Ben gets up to leave—Victor's clearly got dibs on using this loft for his mental breakdown, Ben will just hide in a stall in the men's room like he did at the goddamn Tiffany's Reed dragged him to in search of a ring—but he's stopped in his tracks.

"I notice Sue has a best man of her own," Victor says. "Should I warn Johnny to keep an eye on you, Grimm?"

 _Maybe_ , thinks Ben. "I just want Reed to be happy," is all he says.

-

Sue is wearing a blue wedding dress the same color as her brother's shirt, and Ben, true to his word, keeps his eyes on Victor while the vows are exchanged, but it's mostly so he doesn't have to hear Reed promising to spend forever with _someone who isn't him_.

Franklin doesn't ask for objections or say "speak now or forever hold your peace". Maybe because he suspects Victor would interrupt, or because that only happens in movies. Either way, Ben doesn't speak up. He just hands Reed the ring, when the time comes, and out of the corner of his eye, he watches Reed slip it onto Sue's tiny, delicate hand, watches Reed rub his thumb across the back of Sue's hand, an intimate gesture.

Ben gives his speech. It's a really, really good thing that he's allowed to cry here, because of the champagne he's had and the ability to pass it off as tears of joy.

Once he's finally through talking about how Reed and Sue are perfect for each other, which is entirely true and hurts a hell of a lot more because of it, he lifts his flute of champagne and looks at Reed and Sue. "You are going to travel through a wonderland. Astonishment and stupefaction will probably be your normal state of mind. Starting today, you will enter a new element. May your journey only get better, from here on out."

Reed's crying, which Ben supposes means he did all right, and he more than happily cedes the microphone to Johnny before slipping away to the bathroom.

He finds Victor in the handicap stall with a flask that appears to be pretty damn close to empty.

"You really think being wasted is gonna help?"

"That would hold more weight if you weren't half a bottle of champagne past sober," Victor retorts. Then, "Besides, what am I going to do? Embarrass myself making out with a bridesmaid? Johnny's not really my type."

"Does Sue know _any_ women?" asks Ben.

Victor's laughing, and it's surprisingly contagious, even though it's bitter.

And then somehow Ben's kissing Victor. Which. Okay, he does tend to go for tall men, and he likes to pretend that that's a situation where Reed happens to be his type instead of Reed being the original person behind Ben's history of rushed make-out sessions with tall men in gay bars. Ben's found that if he keeps his tongue down someone else's throat, he doesn't embarrass himself by saying _Reed_. And Victor's not a bad looking guy, even if he's an asshole, and he's actually being not-a-total-asshole to Ben, which means Ben isn't exactly arguing with the proceedings.

They stumble out of the stall and Ben hops up on the edge of the sink so he doesn't have to put a crick in his neck tilting his head back. Victor's got the taste of alcohol and something spicy on his tongue, and his hands are bruising, and it's actually really damn nice to be completely unable to picture Reed being the one kissing him.

Which of course is when Reed walks in.

-

"Uh," says Reed, because he can't—this can't be happening.

Victor steps away from Ben, who's got pink high in his cheeks and ruffled hair, and Reed can't look at his mouth right now, so he just stares at Victor, who looks more furious than anything else, less like he's just been—

Yeah. He can't process this. He turns around and leaves, damn his bladder, and goes to find his wife.

Sue takes one look at him and slides her hand into his and pulls him onto the dance floor, ignoring the chorus of cooing and aww-ing from their guests as she wraps her arms around his neck and guides his forehead down to press against hers. "What's wrong?" she whispers.

"Nothing," he says, and then immediately folds. "I caught Ben and Victor in—a _compromising_ situation in the men's bathroom."

She goes still, just for a second, and then resumes their careful swaying. "How compromising?"

"They were making out," he says miserably.

"Ben must've had more champagne than I realized," says Sue.

"Victor too."

For some reason, that makes her scoff. "Victor doesn't need alcohol to make poor decisions."

"I didn't even know Ben was into guys," Reed whispers, and she rubs a soothing circle at the base of his neck.

"Some people don't feel comfortable talking about that kind of thing," she says, "even if they trust someone completely, they might not be ready, themselves, to talk about it."

" _You_ told me that you were bisexual."

"I'm not Ben, darling," she says.

 _Trust me, I know_ , thinks Reed. Ben, who'd quoted _20,000 Leagues Under the Sea_ in his best man speech. Ben, who's the only person in the world Reed loves more than Sue, and he loves Sue a really awful lot.

Reed hasn't told her about his feelings for Ben, so he can't exactly tell her that he's now got confirmation that Ben really had just never loved him back, not impeded by heterosexuality or anything, just—hadn't been interested in Reed romantically because… because of him? Because Ben just couldn't love Reed?

"I love you," he says.

"I love you too," says Sue.

"It's a good thing we're married, then," Reed says, trying to keep his voice light.

Sue's expression is serious, though. "Yeah," she says, "I think us being married is definitely for the best."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JUST LISTEN TO JOHNNY GODS DAMN
> 
> More angst. Happy New Years.

Sue doesn't look at Victor on her way down the aisle. Doesn't look at him during her vows, or when her father does look at him, as he frames the question she knows she should have told him to skip.

She absolutely doesn't hope against hope that Victor stands and says something. The feeling in her stomach is relief, not disappointment. Not that she would've left Reed at the altar for Victor anyways. But it would have been embarrassing.

Especially since she hasn't exactly told Reed that she used to be in love with Victor. Reed doesn't need to know the full list of men and women she's ever wanted in her entire life, even if he is her---

Sue can't breathe.

Husband. Reed's her husband, as soon as she signs the license. She doesn't look at Victor until she's done signing, and when she glances away from the drying blue ink of the white fountain pen, right up to where she knows Victor was standing, hyper aware of his location even when she made a point of not looking at him -- there's an empty spot in the pew.

He always was a coward, she thinks. She knows it's not fair, knows that if their roles were reversed, she wouldn't have shown up at all.

But it's true. Victor ran away from everything the minute it got hard. Which was why she was much, much better off with Reed.

-

Sue enjoys her honeymoon.

She's trying to convince herself that it's not a surprise. She's getting pretty good at lying to herself.

Reed is withdrawn for the first two days, when they both agree that the madness of the wedding has worn them out too much, but the second night, they skip room service and find a vending machine full of terrible, overpriced snacks, and sit cross legged on the California king bed and open their wedding presents and talk shit about his stepdad's sister, who'd been seated firmly in the "we hate them but our close degree of relation means we're socially obligated to invite them to our wedding" section of the seating arrangements.

Johnny is an asshole, and hid the two wafer thin, ridiculously fast laptops he'd gotten them under a pile of increasingly ridiculous gag gifts. Their hotel room floor is quickly covered in various colors of fuzzy handcuffs, several hundred business cards for what must be every marriage counseler in the country, and carefully photoshopped "guide to retiring to Florida" pamphlets about how boring their life was going to become. It's kind of the most fun Sue's had in ages.

The next day, they tour three of the Smithsonian Institution's museums, and Sue has about fifty excuses lined up for not wanting to jump her new husband's bones, but they go out the window after the fourth luridly pink cocktail.

She and Reed have never had much in the way of chemistry. The sex was nice, of course, Reed was damn near as focused on keeping her happy in bed as he was on his work, and they never failed to have fun on dates. But she got no more emotional intimacy out of sex with Reed than she'd ever gotten with casual flings, and had married him for his ability to make her content rather than for his ability to fulfill wildest dreams.

Drunk Reed is awesome. Or possibly he's only awesome because she's well past tipsy herself.

But he's rambling on about screw the Curies, we're the best power couple in science and she's pulling him down for a kiss and it's great, it's really great.

-

She wakes up with a truly awful hangover.

Somewhere between waiting for the world to stop spinning so she could walk, and throwing up in the hotel toilet, it occurs to her to wonder what the hell was in those cocktails.

And then the memories start coming back. She remembers getting back to their room, and giggling and making out like teenagers, and then.

Sue lifts her head off the sweet, cold porcelain tub. "Oh, hell no," she says.

It's easier to drag herself to her feet and brush her teeth and gulp down some Tylenol when she's fueled by rage.

While she's zipping up the back of her dress, the front door of the room opens. She meets Reed's bloodshot eyes in the mirror. He looks appropriately terrified.

She drags her hairbrush through her hair and pulls it back in a ponytail. "I'm going back to the house," she says.

"No, you stay here, I - I can go pack my stuff," says Reed.

"Pardon?"

He winces at the sharp edge of her voice. But then the word itself catches up to him. "...you're kicking me out, right?"

"No," says Sue. It's hard to stay mad when she's looking at him, and suddenly she's just exhausted. "I'm pissed, but I'm not - Jesus, Reed, if this is the worst secret you've got to spill while drunk, we're doing all right on the marriage front."

"I love you," he says.

She nods. It's not a lie, Reed is a terrible liar and she knows him. "I know."

"I'm not going to - it's not going to become a problem. He's not interested. And he's with Victor, now, anyway."

Sue could tell him right now, that she used to have a thing with Victor. He'd forgive her, he'd just said his best friend's name in the middle of their honeymoon, he'd probably be thankful that she'd screwed something up as well. But she doesn't.

"I think that was just a drunk at a wedding thing," she says. Victor had probably gotten into Ben's head to do it to screw with her, anyway.

"No," says Reed, "Ben texted me. They're in France. Victor's, like, pulling out all the stops."

France. Sue shakes her head. "I think we need to put this behind us," she says. "I'm going back to the house. You should stay, tour the others museums, do all the tourist stuff. God knows I've seen it all before, spending all my summers here."

"Should I pick a business card?" He asks, the joke sounding rather flat.

She snorts. "Yeah, have fun calling every therapist in the DC area to weed out all the biphobic ones. I'm gonna go home and paint."

"I don't get a say in the colors?"

Sue arches an eyebrow. "Do you care about the colors?"

"No," he says. "There's your answer, then."

-

The house feels huge.

Her father had bought it thinking there'd be at least four people there, him and her mom and her and Johnny, and maybe more kids too. He'd always wanted a big family.

Four bedrooms seems excessive, for just her and Reed.

Their stuff is only half unpacked, which makes it easier to shove into a single pile and cover with a tarp.

She finds painting soothing, and looking at thousands of swatches with only minute differences is even more relaxing, filling her usually racing mind with nothing more than colors and their terrible names. (Top Banana. On what is clearly canary yellow. Jesus.)

She picks blue for the master. A deep, inky cobalt, because there's a gorgeous window seat that lets in more than enough room for the color to work. It's nice, being alone with the steady sound of paint being rolled onto rollers and then off on the walls, and of course the music she has playing throughout the entire house, loud because there aren't any close neighbors to complain like in New York.

She is humming along to an 80s power ballad when she realizes someone's in the room with her. She spins around, and swears loudly when she sees Johnny leaning against the door frame.

He crunches into an apple. "Don't tell me you left Reed handcuffed somewhere to come paint," he says.

"If you keep speculating on my sex life, I'm going to write Craiglist ads about how you're a sassy gay man looking for a straight girl's love life and fashion sense to comment on, and give them your phone number."

"That was very specific," he says. "Worryingly specific, actually. So you're not in the middle of a weird abandonment scene with your new kept man, and Reed doesn't appear to be here, which raises the question: why are you here?"

"Is there a safeword for getting out of prying conversations with you?"

"Sue," says Johnny, more seriously.

She shakes her head. "Reed and I are fine, I'm fine, we're just getting some breathing room after months of wedding preparations."

"Uh huh," he says. "Well, I'll leave the relationship junk to you, I'm gonna go work on my car." "

Thanks," she says. "For not arguing that point. The one I told you to drop."

He shrugs. "I still think you're being a goddamn idiot. Just from my unskilled outsider perspective, but. Really damn dumb, Suzie."

"Hey, what were you doing here, anyway?"

"Dad brought the box of files over, finally. Figured I'd drop it off, since you're always so eager to do your taxes. Even straight back from your honeymoon."

"You'd rather do taxes than go on a honeymoon, Johnny, I don't have to take this kind of snark from you."

"Actually, given the choice between sex and tedious paperwork - " he pauses. "No, you're right, I'd rather do the taxes. "

"You're so predictable," she says.

"I am not. I'm an enigma wrapped in a mystery wrapped in one of those weird flat bread things."

"Paninis?"

He snaps finger guns at her in confirmation. 

She sighs, fighting a smile valiantly. "Get the hell out of my house."

"Should've changed the locks if you didn't want me in here," he says, and tosses his apple core across the room. It only barely manages to land in the trashcan, clattering off the sides.

She turns to look at him. "Incredible," she says, "nothing but net."

He flips her off as he leaves, laughing.

-

"I don't think making Sue jealous is going to work."

Victor rolls his eyes. "Shockingly, not everything I do revolves around Susan Storm. Some things I do because I want to do them. And some people," he adds, like an afterthought.

Ben snorts. "That was cheesy. Also, you know you could have gotten laid just fine with literally anyone else, including people better looking and more easily impressed than me, without flying them to Paris."

"Is your point that you're a cheap date? Because I figured that out by the way you couldn't hold your damn liquor."

"My point," says Ben, "is that you're doing this because I'm the only person you know who knows exactly how you feel."

"With insights like those, I have to wonder, not why you didn't get into Baxter with Richards, but why you ever got past the eighth grade."

Now Ben rolls his eyes. "All right, asshole, no more empathy from me."

"Why wasn't that presented as an option five minutes ago?" Victor laments.

"I'm packing," Ben decides. "You may be comfortable hiding from Sue in Europe, but I'm Reed's best friend, I'm going to go back and be happy for him, because he's found someone who makes him happy."

"Touching," drawls Victor. But he starts packing, too.

-

Reed's been alone in the hotel room for nearly 48 hours. Not that he's spent the whole time in the hotel room. He'd visited the air and space museum, and the spy museum, and the national archives.

But he misses Sue, after spending so much time with her that being alone feels weird, and he's not... there's still the ache of being in love with Ben, and the guilt low in his stomach for hurting Sue.

He sighs and closes his laptop and starts putting things back in his suitcase.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @mayor: let them rest? There is no rest for the wicked.

**Author's Note:**

> If you recognize parts of the first scene's dialogue, first of all, lemme congratulate you on your taste in TV shows. secondly, yeah, I don't own Ben's little speech there.
> 
> @mayor @casper - whoops


End file.
